


How to Forge a Dent

by BrainlessGenius



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders is a Little Shit, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders is a Sweetheart, But also, Deceit | Janus Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders As Family, Deceit | Janus Sanders is Anxiety | Virgil Sanders' Parent, Deceit | Janus Sanders is a Dork, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Family Issues, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Light Angst, M/M, Morality | Patton Sanders is Anxiety | Virgil Sanders' Parent, Morality | Patton Sanders is a Dork, One Shot, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Prompt Fill, School, Wine Husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:21:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29175579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrainlessGenius/pseuds/BrainlessGenius
Summary: Janus and Patton have been noticing how Virgil’s been acting strange lately. They try to confront their son about it but an answer isn’t easily coaxed out of him. A call from one of his teachers finally tell them exactly what’s wrong.
Relationships: Deceit | Janus Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Parental Moceit with kid!Virgil
Comments: 5
Kudos: 96





	How to Forge a Dent

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning/s:** Mention of periods (no discussion of it), mentions of light arguing

“He takes after you, you know?”

Janus looks up from where he’s seated in the living room in a yellow tee, fingers still resting on the laptop’s keyboard. From where he is he sees his husband holding a medal in one hand and a dry cloth in the other. Janus shakes his head at how wistfully Patton gazes at the item. “What about me? My sarcasm? For a nine year old, Virgil sure is an expert at it--”

Patton giggles and hangs the gold medal back up over the cabinet top overflowing with picture frames, certificates, ribbons, and an assortment of trinkets. “Not that, silly. Although he is about to beat you at your game.”

Janus smirks and rolls his eyes, not minding that his focus was slowly being shifted towards Patton. “What else about me could it _possibly_ be, then?”

Patton then picks up a blue ribbon labelled with “2nd place.” He still remembers the spelling bee that little trinket came from. “He’s got your brains, Jan. The kid’s smart. I’m glad he took more from you than from me in that area.”

“Bold of you to assume he didn’t get any brain material from you. Have you seen his Arts & Crafts project? I’m not exactly the first person you think of when you see that much glitter on paper mache.”

Patton snorts, this time wiping off the dust from a family picture of them. “I-- okay, fair enough, I guess.” He sets it back down, backing away to gaze at the now clean centerpiece. With a satisfied hum Patton sets the cloth back down in the kitchen area and washes his hands. 

In a few quick strides he joins Janus on the couch, pulling his feet up and leaning heavily against his husband with a soft huff. Janus pulls an annoyed act as Patton worms his arm around him, but Pat knows from how the other doesn’t move that the action is welcome.

A comfortable wordlessness fills the air, with the clacking of keys on the keyboard and the slight shuffling on the couch the only sounds piercing it. A few more minutes of domestic bliss gets Patton glancing at the clock, gently tugging at Janus’s sleeve as he looks.

“Hmm?” Janus keeps his eyes glued to the screen despite Pat’s pulling.

“It’s almost four, hun,” Patton whispers, looking up at Janus through his glasses.

“Mm, yes. And what about four?”

From Janus’s periphery, he can see how Patton’s features shift into that of seriousness. “Janus--”

Janus huffs out a laugh. “Yes, yes, I’m kidding, love. Come on up then.” He saves his document and closes the laptop, pressing a quick kiss to the top of Pat’s head. “I thought you of all people would know how to take a joke, with how much you dreadfully _bore_ me with it every day--”

Patton shoots up with a fond eyeroll and grabs the keys and their coats from the hooks behind the door, tossing Jan’s towards him as he moves. “Come on, Jan. We don’t wanna keep Virge waiting.”

Janus barely catches his coat, clumsily trudging over to the front door. “Do I not get a right to get dressed first--”

“Oh please, not like you’re gonna get out of the car anyway. Go on.”

In the vehicle, a conversation of different air strikes up, with Patton having the first word in the driver’s seat. “Janny?”

“Call me that again and I’m filing for divorce.” Patton snickers at the comment, yet Janus feels how the short laughter is only half-meant. “But what is it, Pat?”

Patton takes a few moments to drum his fingers lightly on the wheel as they pause at a stop light. “Have you noticed something… _off_ about Virgil lately?”

“You mean about how his appetite has grown? ‘Cause to be absolutely honest I’ve been waiting for this day, Patton. The boy needs his goddamn nutrients.” Janus taps Patton lightly on the shoulder. “It’s green, Pat, go.”

The gas pedal is stepped on a bit too swiftly and Janus braces himself against the dashboard before inertia betrays him. He blinks and rearranges himself before turning to face Patton again. “Well,” he clears his throat and runs a few fingers through his black hair, “from that little stunt I’m guessing you’re talking about how he’s been a lot more quiet lately and not his appetite.”

Patton sighs as he brings down the car’s speed. “I’m just… a bit worried, Jan. You know what happened the last time he was like this for so long.”

Janus stiffens beside Patton, voice dropping. “He ended with a really bad anxiety attack. I know. I remember.”

From the windshield Janus can see how they’re nearing the school, already seeing Virgil seated by the steps alone with his favorite purple hoodie up. Worry knocks lightly at his chest at the sight, and he can tell from Patton’s silence that he feels the same way. 

Patton slows down the car further, sneaking in one last question before they pull up fully in front of the building. “We’ll talk about it over dinner, yeah?”

Janus sighs and nods, eyeing Virgil’s small, hunched form through the closed window when they finally arrive at their destination. “Of course.” 

He tosses Pat a final glance and a comforting smile before rolling down his window to call Virgil in. “Hey, stormcloud--!”

From the steps, Virgil’s head darts up at the nickname. He stands and pulls his hoodie tighter, letting out a small, high-pitched groan as he goes. He quickly makes his way into the car and shuts the door, still keeping his hood up. 

There’s an uneasy atmosphere filling the car, one Janus and Patton share a precarious glance at. Janus subtly nods at Patton who takes the signal and maneuvers the car out of the driveway and back onto the road.

Once moving at a steady pace, Pat steals a few glances at the rearview mirror. He doesn’t miss how Virgil stays pressed against the car door, head down and fingers toying with the keychains dangling off his bag. “How was school, kiddo?”

Virgil peers through his soft bangs. “It was okay. Mr. Remus said my drawing looked good.”

The willingness to tell them at least one thing about his day feels like a good sign, except for the fact that Virgil’s voice was all too soft and the answer far too short than they’re used to.

Janus speaks up, turning his head back. “That’s great, Virge. Did you have fun today? Anything wild happened in homeroom? Did Roman finally stop talking about that new Pixar movie that came out--”

Virgil leans back, closes his eyes, and yawns. “No. Not really. And no, Roman’s still talking about it. Just a normal day.”

The couple take Virgil’s probably fake-sleeping form as a sign to leave the topic for now. Janus sees the tension in Patton’s shoulder and his tight grip on the wheel and feels the same discomfort bleeding into him as well.

“Later at dinner, hmm?” he whispers, careful not to let Virgil hear. Patton mouths an “okay” back and lets the rest of the trip drag by in silence. 

Virgil marches straight up to his room the second they arrive, and the entirety of the hours before dinner is spent by the pair guessing and contemplating what might be wrong.

“Do you think he’s hurt somewhere, Jan?”

“He sprinted to his room, Patton. I think he’s at least physically okay--”

“Well, maybe mentally then?”

“Now that might be a more plausible guess--”

“What if Roman’s mad at him? You know he’s the only friend Virge has right now--”

“He _just_ said Roman was still talking about the new Pixar movie, love--”

Patton gasps dramatically. “Did he get his first period--”

“ _Okay._ A, nine years old is a pretty young age to have it and B, we changed his diapers for at least one to two years of his life, Pat. I’m pretty sure the kid does _not_ have a uterus dear god--”

“Or what if he just hates us now, Jan? Did we do something wrong? Are we failing him? Are we not cut out for this--?”

“Patton, goodness gracious look at me.” Janus stops Patton from where he’s been pacing the living room back and forth, both of his hands on either of the other’s arms. “Dinner, right? We said we’d talk at dinner.”

Patton stares at his taller husband with wide eyes before relaxing his shoulders for the first time since they picked their child up. He breathes then nods, still unconvinced with himself as worry etches into his brows. “Dinner. Right. We’ll figure it out… right?”

Janus has never been the best at comfort, but for now he can do what he can. So he pulls Patton close to him and envelopes him in a tight hug, buries his nose into the other’s soft curls, and sways them slowly. “You’re doing better with Virgil than I ever could, Pat. We all get our bad days, don’t we?” Against his shoulder he feels Patton hum in agreement. “We’ll help Virgil out of his, okay?”

Patton pulls away with a sigh. “Okay.”

Janus smiles. “I’m gonna go check on the chicken before it starts to burn--”

Patton jolts and heads to the kitchen in a sudden dash. “Oh gosh, the chicken!”

As hopeful as the pair were for this evening talk over simple fried chicken and beans, the night really gets them nowhere. They try coaxing Virgil into conversation more than the number of times the spoon touches their lips, yet the boy’s answers tell them nothing.

Virgil’s discomfort and reluctance becomes most evident when he finishes his food quicker than usual and retreats back into his room. He uses tiredness as an excuse and leaves them with a too-quick “Goodnight, papa. Goodnight, dad!”.

Virge is definitely sound asleep when they go to check on him later on. The couple is left again on their own to overthink the entire situation. 

If Janus brings out the wine bottle deep into the night for just a tiny stress-sip, Patton doesn’t say anything. He even joins him with a glass for once, but he’ll deny that he ever did.

When one of Virgil’s teachers phones Patton the next day, he thinks he may have found the answer. 

“Virgil _what?_ ”

Patton hurriedly gets dressed and urges Janus to do the same. “Janus, hun, calm down for a bit. We still don’t know what Virgil did but we’re gonna have to talk to Mr. Croft about it--”

Janus huffs in disbelief, his movements sharp and rough as he slips into more proper clothing for their impromptu meeting. “Are we even sure he’s talking about Virgil?”

Patton stumbles a bit trying to don a collared shirt over his head. “He wouldn’t call me if it wasn’t our son, Jan--”

“I know.” Janus sighs and pulls at his shoelaces forcefully. “It’s just that we’ve never been called in before for... _anything._ And I know our son, Pat. He’s not the type to just get into trouble like this--”

Patton tames a few of his strands then tugs Janus up by his arm, pulling him up and out of the door swiftly. “I don’t think so too but we _really_ have to go now, hun.”

Virgil is obviously in distress when they enter Mr. Logan Croft’s classroom. His jacket-clad form is seated in one of the front rows of chairs, hands wringing together and head bowed, unable to meet his parents’ gaze for even a second.

The teacher rises from his chair to greet them upon their entry, hand sticking out to welcome them.

When Virgil finally looks at them, his eyes are swimming in fear while his bottom lip trembles. He’s already stammering before they’re even seated. “I’m really sorry papa, dad. I-I didn’t mean to--”

Patton rushes to sit in the seat beside Virgil to hug the kid, running his hand up and down his clothed back and shushing him. Janus takes the seat on Virgil’s other side, claiming the responsibility of accepting a test paper, Virgil’s test paper, from Mr. Croft. 

He begins to examine it, eyes locking on the obviously botched version of his own signature at the top right corner of it. 

Janus speaks first. “So uh, Mr. Croft,” he begins, eyeing the paper intently in his hands, “by showing me this are you meaning to tell us that--”

“That Virgil forged your signature, yes.” In his seat, Virgil curls in on himself, but Patton does not let go of the soothing motions on his back. The teacher continues. “We had this short Math exam last week and I returned their graded sheets to them two days ago. I instructed them to have it signed, as usual.”

Patton speaks up, taking the paper from Janus and eyeing something else on it aside from the fake signature. “Yeah, I remember. He always brings home activities to sign.”

“Ah, so at least we know this is the first time he’s forged. The only question that remains now is why?”

Virgil does not look up. Patton waits for Janus to say something but he instead sees a slight agitation. Upon seeing the expression, Patton takes over again to save Virgil, or Mr. Croft for that matter, from any untoward outburst. 

“Virge? You’re going to have to help us out here, sweetie.” Virgil looks up at Pat but still avoids Janus, who is seated rather unflinchingly stiff in the wooden seat. “Is there a reason why you did it?”

Sobriety is heavy in Patton’s tone, but still holding a certain calmness to it. Virgil shakily takes a breath. “Can we talk about it at home?”

Janus inhales sharply through his nose and Patton shoots him a steely look. Janus collects himself before proceeding. “Virge? Can you look at dad for a bit?”

Virgil follows but only for a second. Janus tries again.. “I know you’d rather that we talk about this at home, but we also need Mr. Logan to understand, don’t we?”

Patton senses the uneasiness and continues for Janus. “If you tell us why, I promise dad and I won’t get mad.”

The sentence gets his head turning up. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

In his seat, Virgil shifts then speaks in a bare whisper. “I was scared.”

Seeing the bright red _“F”_ marking Virgil’s paper just by the fake signature, Patton already has an inkling of why Virgil was so afraid. He feels that Janus may have figured it out too, judging by how his eyes are trained on the score.

It’s the first time Virgil has ever failed.

The teacher clears his throat in front of them. “Virgil, can I ask what you were so scared of?”

Virgil picks at a loose thread in his jacket and speaks impossibly even softer than before. “I was scared of them finding out that I didn’t pass.”

And there it is. A lot to unpack.

Mr. Croft is practised in the field enough to realize that the situation has evolved into a personal matter than an academic one. Virgil is only a child, after all, so he ends the conversation there.

He lays Virgil off with a reassurance that he understands, and that this encounter will merely serve as a warning. He makes the child promise never to do it again to which Virgil readily gives his word. Patton is grateful that Mr. Croft lets him and Virgil leave the room while he goes back inside to continue conversation with Janus.

It’s a smart move, Patton thinks. 

He continues comforting Virgil outside while they wait for Jan, who eventually comes out with the teacher. Janus is silent as he coaxes his family back to the car with one last handshake with the instructor.

Patton knows there’s irritation hidden beneath Janus’s well-masked face, and he worries. 

So he silently begs Janus to cool down, let the steam simmer off the whole trip back home, to allow Patton to do the talking for now before they hold a proper conversation. Janus can’t argue with that, so he agrees.

True to his word, Patton takes the wheel. Not the literal one. Janus is driving now. Patton does what he’s best at and tries to clear the heavy atmosphere, giving all three of them the space to breathe while still making sure their son’s mistake is realized. Virgil loosens up slowly but surely and Janus visibly relaxes. 

They keep it that way until they arrive home, even when Virgil goes straight up to his room again. The couple find themselves in a deja vu moment, discussing downstairs out of Virgil’s sight. There’s a slight argument regarding irresponsibility, parenting, and the implications of the failing mark.

Then Patton’s gaze lands on the centerpiece, then on the offending exam, then on Janus. Suddenly he thinks he knows why Virgil is so afraid, but he keeps his mouth shut for now. 

Instead he holds a palm to either of Janus’s reddening cheeks and shushes him. He kisses the tip of his nose and begs him to relax like he already was. He makes him swear that he’ll maintain the same attitude when they finally talk about it later.

Janus softens, sighs, and agrees.

Dinner is a much healthier atmosphere than it was the previous night. The light conversation returns naturally but the question still hangs in the air. Pat and Jan have already prepared themselves to be the ones to start discussion, but they’re both surprised when it’s Virgil who does.

“Papa, dad… I’m really sorry for what I did.”

Patton signals that Janus be the one to reply. “It’s alright, Virgil. Like we’ve already said, what you did was wrong and must _never_ happen again.” He pauses when Virgil _finally_ looks at him for the first time that day. He looks for any sign of distress. It’s at a minimum. He continues. “And we forgive you. That’s alright now. Mr. Logan said it himself, right? You’re off the hook with a warning for now.”

Virgil takes a small bit of his bread roll. “Mhmm.”

Janus takes a sip of water and Patton watches idly by. “But there’s still something you have to answer, Virge.”

Virgil nods, biting his lip as he does so.

“Why were you so scared of us finding out?”

The tension in Virgil’s shoulders comes back, but a comforting smile from Pat across him eases it marginally. “Are you not mad that I failed?”

Patton was expecting the question. He sees Janus’s eyes growing wide and for the quickest second he doubts what his husband might say.

Janus stammers, an action definitely unnatural to him. “Well, it’s very unfortunate, that’s for sure. How are you feeling about your score?”

Virgil frowns. “Terrible.”

“See? I mean, I’d probably feel awful too. But not mad. Never mad.”

The last three words get Virgil’s posture straightening, eyes wide and flitting between his dads. “You’re not mad?”

Janus huffs and smiles thinly. “At the forging, we were maybe just the slightest bit upset--” Patton strictly looks at Janus. “--but we’re past that. But with you failing a test? Of course not. Why would you think that we would be?”

Virgil’s eyes go downcast. “Because I’ve never failed before. I always get a high score, remember?”

Patton can pinpoint the exact moment realization clicks in Janus’s eyes. He looks to the award-laiden centerpiece then to the paper still lying on the living room table. 

Virgil continues, still not looking up. “I don’t want you to get disappointed. You always tell me to do good and you really like it when I get high grades. And you said I should always do my best, but I can’t be doing my best if I failed and I didn’t want you mad a-and you’re smart and you say I’m smart too so I didn’t want you to know about the failing grade cause smart people don’t get low scores--”

“Hey now, slow down, bud.” Jan places a hand over Virgil’s gently, waiting for his breathing to oven out. “You think your dad is smart?”

Virgil nods meekly. “You both are.”

Janus thinks it over. “Do you wanna know a secret, Virge?”

Virgil perks in curiosity and hums his agreement.

“You say I’m smart, with all my coats and lawyer stuff and the big words and the ugly briefcase--” Virgil snicker then bites his lip to stop it. “--but let me tell you something.” Janus darts his eyes around, like a criminal would to his surroundings, then leans closer to his son’s ear. “I failed too.”

Virgil gasps, loud and high. “You did?!”

Patton butts in with a playful mirth. “Oh your dad failed, alright. And it was his History class, too--”

Virgil makes another noise in between protest and disbelief. “But history is cool!”

Janus rubs at his neck bashfully then looks to Patton with revenge. “Your papa failed too. He failed _Science._ ”

“Science?!” Virgil exclaims, looking at Patton as if it was the most scandalous thing he’s ever heard. “That’s my favorite subject, papa!”

Patton shrugs then shyly chuckles through a spoonful of veggies. 

Then Janus reclaims Virgil’s attention along with the sincerity of the topic. “It’s true, Virge. We both failed at more than just school a lot. Do you still think we’re smart?”

Virgil purses his lips and thinks, but not for long. “Uh-huh. You’re still pretty smart, dad. And papa too! ‘Cause I don’t understand a lot of what you say.”

The pair laugh sparingly before Janus talks. “Then the same thing goes for you, kid.” Eyebrows scrunch up and a voice goes softer. “It’s okay to fail, Virge. I’m sorry if papa and I--” Janus saves a glance towards his husband. “--mostly me, made you feel like you don’t have the space to make a few mistakes. We all make them.”

A few pieces of bread fall apart in Virgil’s fingers. “But what if I fail again the next time? I promise I’m doing my best, dad--”

“Even if you do, it’s still alright. And we know you’re doing your best, Virge. We see it everyday. In fact--” Janus thumbs off some crumbs from Virgil’s chin, coaxing a short giggle. “--sometimes your best can be tiring, can’t it?”

“Aren’t you proud of me for doing my best?” 

Patton tuts at him. “Oh honey, of course we are! But you have to remember that it’s okay to take a few breathers. _Even_ if that means laying off your best for a little bit.”

“Do you and dad do that too?”

“Mhmm,” Janus says, swallowing his food before he continues. “Even lawyers and planners need a break, Virge. And students and kids like you need them, too.”

Relief coats Virgil. “I’m still sorry, though.”

“Come now, none of that. If you want to, dad and I can even help you in Maths, tell us all the hard things so we can try and learn it together, hmm?”

The hint of a smile teases at Virgil’s lips. “Yeah, that sounds cool. Do you still remember how to do fractions?”

Janus chuckles nervously. “Well, uhm, we’ll just have to wait and see, I suppose--”

Virgil laughs through a mouthful of dinner, gaze alternating between his parents.

Through a warm smile, Patton dives back into a slightly serious tone. “No more forging signatures, alright? You don’t need to hide silly little things like low grades from us anymore, okay sweetie?” 

There’s a small burp from Virge followed by three different bouts of laughter and a bashful apology. “Yes, papa.”

Janus smiles fondly and opens his arms. “Now, come over here.”

Virgil hops down with a grin and crosses the short space between them to hug his dad tightly. Janus ruffles up his hair, snickering when their son whines lightheartedly at the motion.

“Thanks, dad. Thanks, papa. I love you.”

A fulfilling look is shared between the couple, both feeling the genuity of those small words in that moment. “We love you too, Virgil.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope your days are going great, fams! Every little support and kudos is eternally appreciated. Come visit me on Tumblr [@nerdy-emo-royal-dad](https://nerdy-emo-royal-dad.tumblr.com/)! Stay safe! <3


End file.
